Kiss and Make Up
by VoyGirl
Summary: One man's loss can be another's gain...


Kiss and Make Up  
  
by Voy Girl  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Spoilers: none   
  
Summary: P/T, J/C, There are times when one man's loss not is another man's gain; two persons' argument is somehow weaved into a totally different row.   
  
Disclaimer: Voyager and its characters belong to Paramount Pictures. No infringement intended.   
  
Written: August 2003  
  
~ ~ ~   
  
It was late night, or very early in the morning,   
  
aboard the lost starship Voyager. Everything was calm,   
  
since most of the crew worked during the days, even  
  
though they actually couldn't tell the day and the   
  
night apart, without dimmed lights and special assignments.  
  
Voyager's night was false, and so was the conception that the mess  
  
hall should be quiet and empty until it was time for  
  
breakfast. It usually was too, but not this particular night. Two   
  
members of the crew entered it - and it was not because they wanted a   
  
sandwich.   
  
"Computer, lights on! This is the last time you make me a part in one   
  
of your stupid holoprograms!" Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres slid   
  
down in a chair, furiously glaring at her boyfriend.   
  
"Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad!" Tom Paris placed himself in the  
  
chair next to hers.   
  
"Try to understand this; I will not be an ancient Roman woman, not a  
  
helpless girl who sings at 'Chez Hole in the Wall'. I don't want to be a damsel  
  
in distress, nor a cowgirl. I don't want to wear   
  
some hopelessly dumb outfit. I simple will not play another part in a holonovel!"  
  
"You'll miss it..."   
  
"No! I can assure you I won't. I'll gladly go to the resort, or the  
  
tennis court, even Sandrine's, the zoo or that drive-in movie theater  
  
of yours. I have nothing against sailing, climbing or  
  
hiking. I love to have picnics or dinner, even to dress up and  
  
dance waltz at some castle in the air... It's just the   
  
role-playing that you take too far!"   
  
"What if I let you design your own character, will you be happy then?"   
  
"I don't want to participate. I want to be myself around you. You've   
  
promised me that."   
  
He reached out to touch her, but regretted it, and drew back his hand   
  
when she shot him a grim look. "It's just for fun. It's not like   
  
I want you to be someone else, you   
  
can't possibly think that. But if you simply don't want to do it, I won't force you."   
  
"Good." She'd cooled down a bit; adopted a less harsh tone of voice.   
  
She slowly stroked with a hand over her damp hair. "Why is it you   
  
want to have me in every crazy little program you make?"   
  
"I just want to spend time with you... On several different levels.   
  
You understand?"   
  
"I think so."   
  
Tom nodded slowly, gazing around the mess hall. "Should we take a look   
  
in the pots?"   
  
"Those?" B'Elanna pointed at three metallic pots placed on the   
  
counter, most likely to get cool.   
  
"Might be something we can have as a snack."   
  
Reluctantly, she rose from her chair and followed him to the fairly   
  
big pots.   
  
"I think it's another round of that soup Neelix makes. You know, the   
  
one with tomatoes, carrots and haricots."   
  
She frowned. "If you're really going to eat that, I hope you've   
  
planned to do it here."   
  
"Why?" Tom practically had his head in the pot to the left, while   
  
stirring in it with a ladle he'd found on the counter.   
  
"Unless you prefer to take it to your quarters and eat it alone, of   
  
course."   
  
"Won't you come with me?"   
  
B'Elanna rolled her eyes, balled her fists and took a deep breath. "I   
  
told you; I don't want to go to your quarters, because I have no   
  
uniform there. And I definitely don't want to mingle with the   
  
Alpha shift dressed like this!"   
  
She motioned to the sleeveless, knee-lenght, wine-red cloth she wore,   
  
complete with a stump of golden string functioning as a belt. And   
  
not to forget, a pair of tennis shoes. She'd refused to wear the   
  
sandals. "I can't believe you got me into this!"   
  
He finally looked up from the soup in the pot. "It's not my fault you   
  
can't pass a group of three persons who happened to be fixing a   
  
lock two doors away from your quarters."   
  
"They are a part of my staff! I don't want them to see me like this."   
  
"If they'd notice you at all, they'd probably think it was some kind   
  
of evening wear."   
  
"Not when my company's outfit consists of green pants combined with a   
  
white sack with holes for head and arms!"   
  
"It's not a sack! This is a T-shirt, made out of linen."   
  
"It is a sleeveless potato sack for all I care! I'm not going back to   
  
my quarters until they're gone."   
  
"Come on, B'Elanna!" It was his turn to roll his eyes. "This time   
  
could've been better spent at the holodeck."   
  
"I agree, it could have been better spent. Just not on board a   
  
gigantic seafaring, wooden ship, the seconds before it'll get caught   
  
near the eye of the storm."   
  
"I thought you'd find it exiting!"   
  
She slammed her fist against the counter. "But I didn't, okay? If you   
  
really want to spend time with me, you could have used the time   
  
it took you to make that program to see me."   
  
At first he looked a little surprised, then crushed and   
  
unhappy. "Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to simply not talk   
  
to one another for a week or so, instead of wasting time on   
  
pointless arguments."   
  
"Are you thinking about the Captain and Chakotay?"   
  
"Must have been a heck of a misunderstanding between them."   
  
"Why does it have to be a misunderstanding? Couldn't it just have been   
  
a pointless fight, you know, like the ones we apparently always   
  
engage in!"   
  
"You want to know why I keep making those programs? Because one day, I   
  
know there will be one you won't be able to reject. And every   
  
time there is one you don't like, I can scratch it from the list   
  
of possible ones."   
  
B'Elanna's eyes grew round in surprise. "Is that a promise?"   
  
"Yes, and every time there is something you don't like, I get to know   
  
you a bit better. And one day, I swear, I will know you as good   
  
as you know yourself, and that is the day I'll make you the   
  
perfect holoprogram!" He took a deep breath, and decided to chance the   
  
subject before he could interpret her expression to the worse.   
  
"I wonder what Janeway and Chakotay really disagreed, or fought,   
  
about. The rumors says they haven't traded two words for the last few   
  
days."   
  
"They'll solve it sooner or later. One of them will have to eat humble   
  
pie, simply because they both know the ship can't function with   
  
the two highest ranked officers out of sync."   
  
"True."   
  
"Oh, you actually agree with me for once!" B'Elanna began to pace a   
  
span of a few meters in front of him. Her desire to fight had   
  
apparently flamed up again. "Otherwise you gladly contradict, no   
  
matter if we're in the ready room or alone in the mess hall, of   
  
all places!"   
  
"It was you who wanted to go to the mess after running out of the   
  
holodeck, just because those horrible staff members were there. And   
  
they are probably gone by now!"   
  
"Can't you understand that I'm embarrassed?" She stopped in mid-step,   
  
near the three pots. "I don't want them to see me dressed like   
  
this. Then they'd probably think that I like to play games, and   
  
before I know it, I'm participating in a ship-wide role-play   
  
about the life on an eighteenth century castle!"   
  
Tom chuckled dryly. "You're really fixed on this holodeck thing,   
  
aren't you?"   
  
"Because it reached its peak toda-" She opened her arms, cutting   
  
herself off when the back of her hand made contact with something   
  
hard. The pot to the left. Inexorable, it tipped over on the counter,   
  
spreading its red content over the same.   
  
B'Elanna watched with dismay as multicolored chunks fell down on the   
  
floor, smeared in the dark red liquid. "You still want to eat   
  
that?"   
  
Tom glanced at her and sighed, but knew better than to complain when   
  
she was in her element. He looked at the sludge which had been   
  
the climax of her anger, and was glad it wasn't him who'd been   
  
the recipient. "We better clean this up."   
  
She nodded, the red spots which had been evident during their entire   
  
conversation finally paled down.   
  
"What should we tell Neelix? A third of the lunch is spoiled."   
  
Tom let his gaze sweep over the floor; it was cleaner than it'd been   
  
before. The now empty pot once again stood on its place. One   
  
couldn't tell the content had been all over the counter and a good   
  
piece of the floor. "We have a couple of hours to make something up."   
  
B'Elanna placed a hand on the counter, glad to notice that her palm   
  
didn't stick to it. "I really need to get to my quarters now."   
  
"To chance clothes and get a few hours of sleep?" He nodded at her   
  
stained dress, then took a good look at his own outfit. "Guess I   
  
should do the same."   
  
"About the holoprograms... I might take you on that offer to program   
  
one myself, after all."   
  
"I'll look forward to it."   
  
They began to make their way to the exit, fairly exhausted. "Computer,   
  
lights off!"   
  
The doors had barely slid open to let them through, when tom turned to   
  
B'Elanna. "There isn't any chance at all you'll let me choose the   
  
outfits?"   
  
~ ~ ~   
  
A few hours later, a pretty tried couple entered the mess hall to have   
  
their breakfast. A stream of people followed their example, among   
  
them Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay. She acknowledged him   
  
with a small nod, trying to shake off the feeling that everyone's eyes   
  
rested upon her.   
  
Mere meters in front of the Captain and the First officer, Tom somehow   
  
managed to bump into B'Elanna, making her drop the apple she'd   
  
just taken from the bowl.   
  
"Oh, sorry." He bent down and picked up the apple, scrutinizing it. "I   
  
don't think you should eat this."   
  
She balled her fists. "How can you be so clumsy? I could just   
  
strangle..."   
  
"Remember the soup, B'Elanna?" Tom got out through gritted teeth,   
  
placing the apple in her hand.   
  
"Right."   
  
A quick kiss and a new apple later, they sat down at an empty table,   
  
the same as a few hours before, laughing and talking.   
  
Dark eyes followed the entire course, only to skip to a certain red-  
  
head for the umpteenth time the last couple of days. She stood   
  
just a few feet away from him.   
  
"Look at them. How can they do that?" Chakotay mumbled, mostly to   
  
himself. He was totally unaware about the real course, bordered with   
  
blood, sweat and tears.   
  
"Just kiss and make up you mean?" Kathryn answered, to Chakotay's   
  
great surprise. It turned out to be the first sentences they'd   
  
exchanged for days, that didn't contain the words 'impulse',   
  
or 'screen'.   
  
"I don't know about you, commander. But I'm ready to do the same..."   
  
THE END 


End file.
